


Ring o' Roses

by zenonaa



Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 18:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15712974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenonaa/pseuds/zenonaa
Summary: “Everyone has been really down lately, so we came up with the idea to have a party. Cool, right?”Class 78 play Spin the Bottle. The world's ending, so why not?





	Ring o' Roses

Cold hues surround Celes and the silhouettes scattered about the hall, an equal but muddled array of blue and purple. Splotches of deep pink bleed from spotlights overhead, emphasising every scuff and graze in the wooden flooring. A low bass rumbles and thunders, and then Celes and the others witness the lightning strike - a neutral spotlight shines down from the heavens, and a figure stands in its glow on the stage at one end of the hall.

The figure is Mukuro, who lifts her head with a deep frown. At the same time, she cocks a clunky-looking gun, aims it forward and squeezes the trigger. 

Carbon dioxide sprays out, white as it bursts out initially, but as the smoky gas thins and spreads out, it takes on more and more of the room’s lighting, starting at its edges.

Nearby, Junko whoops and raises a glass of pink punch above her head. Some of the neutral lighting reaches her, but on the whole, she basks in pinks, blues and purples. She stands behind a podium on the stage. 

Her eyes gleam.

“I’m glad you’re all here!” Junko says.

“It’s not like we had a choice,” grumbles Byakuya from somewhere.

Celes sweeps her gaze around the hall. Everyone is dotted about, with Junko and Mukuro being the only ones on the stage. She ultimately finds Byakuya, who had been handcuffed to Sakura earlier when he tried to leave at the beginning of the party, having been tricked here under the guise of an important announcement.

To some, a party counted as one of those.

Byakuya is objectively handsome, even as he grimaces. A lot of people would want to get close to him. After all, he’s rich, intelligent and as previously stated, handsome. Right now, however, the only person taking offence to his treatment is Touko, who can’t stop glaring in their direction and spitting out whines that get lost in the constant beat of music. 

She would rank him a B minus.

“Everyone has been really down lately, so we came up with the idea to have a party. Cool, right?” says Junko, ignoring Byakuya and Touko’s sullen moods, and she pirouettes, en pointe in arabesque, and stays suspended on one foot as she points an outstretched arm toward the buffet table. “Snacks are there. If you have a song request, please input it into our jukebox. I have some games for us to play, and now, if you don’t mind...”

Junko slaps her raised foot back onto the ground as she straightens up, and she claps her hands. She opens her mouth, about to say something, but Kiyotaka’s abrupt voice comes in first. He’s C-rank.

“Where is the headmaster?” he asks, another person who once upon a time, was considered good-looking by many and whose perseverance would land him a well-paid job. 

Now, that number has dwindled. Not because his looks changed, but because there are less people around now that the world is on the brink of ending. For all they know, they’re the only people left.

They’ve had months to stew over this, so it doesn’t need going over in more detail. That has already been done plenty of times during sleepless nights and days which might as well be the same thing, with no access to sunlight or moonlight. Junko’s face doesn’t change, but she doesn’t answer or even go on to say what she had been about to say before Kiyotaka interrupted.

The grin that had spread through her lips remains, not shrinking, not growing. She’s like a statue.

Yasuhiro cups the back of his neck. C-rank.

“Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen him all day,” he remarks, scratching lightly.

Chihiro curls their fingers against their cheek. Their head tilts slightly to one side. “I haven’t him since yesterday afternoon...”

Everyone turns this way and that, searching for Kyouko, the headmaster’s daughter. Celes had made note of where Kyouko was upon arriving, so locates her quickly. Kyouko stands near the double doors, leaning on a wall with her arms folded over her chest. The shadows and vibrant lighting work together to make Kyouko’s face look like a grainy piece of pop art, and when Kyouko raises her head, Celes can barely distinguish the movement.

“I haven’t seen him either,” she says coolly.

“Has anyone seen him lately?” asks Kiyotaka loudly, and he slowly surveys the hall like he expects someone to show their hand. 

No one shows their hand, but someone does speak up.

“I have,” says Mukuro, still holding the smoke gun. “Last night. We didn’t talk though. He was on the way to his room. I was near the infirmary.”

Mukuro says it like she’s reading a script. That girl really is that boring.

“So maybe he’s sick then,” says Makoto, brow creased. He worked his way up to B-rank. “Maybe we should check on him?”

Junko nods. “Spiffy idea, Naegi-kun. Muku-Muku-chan!” 

She whips her finger toward Mukuro. 

“You’re fast,” says Junko. “Go, go, go!”

Mukuro starts for the door, carrying the smoke gun, but halfway across the hall, she hurries back to the podium and puts it down. Then she darts over to the double doors and disappears through them.

Kyouko and everyone else watch, and when the doors shut, Kyouko keeps her head turned in that direction for some reason.

“How about we play a game to loosen up?” asks Junko. “What about spin the bottle?”

Junko jumps down from the stage and marches over to the buffet table. Plates of food adorn it, but she doesn’t take any, swapping her untouched glass for a bottle of pink liquid. It looks like the punch.

“A game of spin the bottle will liven things up,” says Junko. “Grab a drink, and we’ll get started!”

Most of the class wander over. Touko stands a short distance away and though she had shuffled closer, she doesn’t seem interested in joining them. Aoi and Sayaka notice and flank her from both sides, impeling Touko toward where their classmates are forming a circle. Someone who doesn’t get any closer is Kyouko, whose head is still angled toward the doors that Mukuro left through, for some reason. Mukuro’s exit was almost remarkably unremarkable, so the extra attention isn’t needed. 

Celes approaches Kyouko with a smile plastered on her face. She holds her hands together near her heart.

“Is something on your mind, Kirigiri-san?” asks Celes.

Kyouko doesn’t answer right away. Her head turns so she faces Celes. “It’s fine.”

“Ikusaba-san will be back soon. Don’t dwell on her,” says Celes. She squeezes her hands together more firmly. Perks up her smile. “Now, come along. If I have to be inflicted with this game, then you do as well.”

After a few seconds, Kyouko peels her back off the wall, and they walk over to the rest of their classmates, who at this point have sat themselves in a complete circle, facing inward. Chihiro and Makoto wiggle aside to create an opening for the two of them. Celes sits between Kyouko and Makoto. 

Junko passes Kyouko and Celes a glass of pink punch each. Then, with everyone except Mukuro present, Junko starts the game. She leans in and spins the bottle at the centre of their ring. The bottle first stops with its neck pointed at Byakuya, and it next targets Kyouko.

Byakuya lowers his glass from his lips and a keen eye would have detected how he stiffened, but Kyouko doesn’t betray any emotion. Kyouko is one of the few people who Byakuya would admit to almost being his equal, a thought that offends Celes. At first, neither him nor Kyouko move, staring the other down, but then Yasuhiro coughs, prompting Byakuya to stick up his nose.

“In case you forget, I’m handcuffed,” Byakuya says coldly.

“They should be allowed to take it off now, right?” asks Aoi. Her eyes flit between Junko’s indifferent face and Sakura’s wrist.

“I’ll give the key over after the first few games,” says Junko.

“Then for now, they can meet halfway,” announces Sakura, and she extends her arm forward. Byakuya is able to hobble some of the way, and Kyouko crawls toward him to make up the rest of the distance. 

The two come face-to-face with the other and after only a flicker of hesitation, they swoop in.

Celes’s long, red nails drag against her skirt as she balls them into fists. Their lips press together for no more than a few seconds, despite how long it feels, and after the chaste kiss, they reverse. Byakuya takes a sip from his glass and Kyouko sits back equally casually, minus the drink. Touko wrings her hands, making no facade as she grinds her teeth together, but she doesn’t actually voice any complaints. 

Neither does Celes. Not out loud. She picks up the drink that Junko gave her and sips. The sweet drink sours in her mouth. Each gulp works through a tight opening to plunge down to the pit of Celes’s stomach. 

“Let’s see who the bottle chooses next,” says Junko and she sets the bottle in motion again, pairing up Chihiro and Makoto.

Chihiro widens their eyes then fidgets, growing as pink as Makoto. They both haul their gazes toward the other. Their gazes knock together and send their eyes swinging off in opposition directions.

“Today would be nice,” remarks Junko, legs crossed at the knees and one foot swaying.

Makoto looks at Chihiro again first. He smiles. “It’s all right, Fujisaki-kun.”

Though Chihiro still seems tense and their cheeks are just as flushed as before, when they face Makoto, they grin slightly. The two lean in, and with Kyouko and Celes serving as a background, they peck each other’s lips. Right after, they return to their previous positions, but judging by the shine in their eyes, their rosy complexions and lips curled upward at the ends, neither were or are uncomfortable.

The game resumes and proceeds with a steady rhythm, with Junko spinning the bottle for each round. Various combos crop up. Celes gives a few kisses, to Kiyotaka, to Makoto, to Sayaka and Byakuya. After the brief kiss between Byakuya and Celes, where the corners of their mouths don’t even touch and they immediately retreat back to their allotted spaces, the bottle whirls until it selects its next victims - Makoto and Kyouko.

Kyouko’s lashes set aflutter. She tucks a loose strand of violet behind her ear and twists around. Only slightly off-sync, Makoto does the same, lagging a little, and the two kiss on their hands and knees.

Their bodies block Celes from everyone else’s view, and as neither of the pair so much as glance her way, no one is audience to the way Celes no longer feigns smiles, her lips pressed flat, or how her eyes narrow. Makoto, a remarkably plain guy, is only in their class because of a lottery. His talent is nothing like that of Celes, who knows how to manipulate, when to take risks, and that’s not to speak of Kyouko’s own astuteness, and the mechanism of her wonderful brain that lets her solve mysteries and dissect others. If Makoto had a talent, it would be his unusual ability to gain the trust of others like he’s a saucepan brought to boil slowly, and they’re all frogs. But not Celes. And not Kyouko.

Byakuya’s rich, intelligent and as previously stated, handsome, but short periods with him are able to sour most people’s moods, and Touko is one of the few immune to his stench. It must be her own stink that causes that. Though he would make a satisfying butler, the effort needed isn’t worth it, for Celes. Kiyotaka, considered good-looking by many, has perseverance that could land him a well-paid job, but he has no tact and a voice too loud and a moral compass too ingrained into him, and he would object to many of her demands or sob grotesquely. Her mind circles around those that Kyouko has kissed this evening. Sayaka’s too sweet, too meek, too radiant, Mukuro and Mondo wouldn’t be able to entertain and please Kyouko, not like Celes could... None of them are worthy of Kyouko. Only Celes is.

Makoto and Kyouko pull apart, and their gentle smiles tear Celes’s stoic mask off her face. Celes grabs Kyouko and wrenches her closer. Kyouko widens her eyes as Celes pushes her lips into hers. The initial shock can only last so long, but Kyouko doesn’t pull away. In fact, Kyouko holds Celes’s shoulders, and though Kyouko shows no inclination to escape, Celes cradles Kyouko’s cheeks, just in case.

The heat of the hall climbs. No one says anything. That’s not odd. They draw even closer, opening their mouths, clutching the other more firmly as the world spins and the bright hall melds into a single colour that Celes doesn’t know how to describe. Her body feels heavier but her mind feels light, like caught in a tornado, and Kyouko tastes of sweet bubblegum.

A low bass rumbles and thunders. Around them, stars go out. Bodies slump like trees collapsing. Just as Celes begins to take in what’s happening, Celes and Kyouko fall over too, in each other’s arms.

As Celes’s eyelids droop and the curtains threaten to fall on the scene, she thinks she sees a silhouette standing over her. The figure seems to be holding something in their arms. A toy of some kind. A bear, perhaps. Another person strides over to the first figure, the same height with the same measurements.

“Upupupu,” says one of them, and the world snuffs out.

**Author's Note:**

> Request for CeleGiri "A kiss… out of envy or jealousy."


End file.
